Obliviate
by maturebel
Summary: Ginny and Harry left a lot of unsaid business between them after the war. Trying to fix up what they had before proves to be a difficult challenge when they return to school, suddenly in the same grade when Harry decides to repeat his seventh year. An unfortunate accident leaves them seemingly broken, but Harry is determined not to give her up again.


**Ginny**

I watch Harry carefully. His hands are shaking so badly that he's spilling his water all over himself. I emerge from my perch in the kitchen doorway, walking slowly towards him. The Burrow is dead silent, but of course it is; it's 2:46 in the morning. I find Harry by the sink and wrap my arms around him from behind. Water sloshes down his front and onto my arms when I do.

"Ginny," he says in surprise. We haven't talked...really talked...since the war. Just polite conversation at the dinner table and me scolding him for taking walks every night at odd hours, until he convinced me he'd been sleeping through the night. I say nothing. He keeps talking. "Look, I'm sorry about what I had to do last year, but I was trying to keep you safe. You know that, don't you? That I was keeping you safe?"

I wonder if he can feel my heart hammering against my sternum. "What if you don't have to protect me anymore?" I take his water glass from his hand - it's all spilled out anyways - and set it in the sink.

He shakes his head. "Ginny," his voice takes on a funny twinge, "The war only just ended - it's still not safe."

"But Voldemort is gone. And also..." I pull back from him and sit on the table. "I don't need to be protected, Mr. Potter."

He grabs my chin and forces me to look him in the eyes. "Ginny. You don't understand...how I would feel...if you got hurt, or...or killed because of me. I would never forgive myself."

I let his hand fall away and feel hot, angry tears brewing in my eyes. I was stupid to come down here, to think he even liked me at all anymore. "Please don't cry," he says.

"How do you think it felt," I say in a shaky voice, blinking back my tears, "to not see you for a year, not know if you're all right or alive, then finally see you again only for you to turn up _dead_ without me ever saying all the things I want to?" He freezes. I plow on. "I had to watch Hagrid carry you in. You don't understand, Harry; _you were dead."_

He pulls me to my feet and pulls me against him. I exhale slowly, all of my tears gone. "I'm sorry. I've never thought about that." His hand brushes over my hair.

"Maybe you're the one that needs protecting," I say, and he lets out a small grin.

I wrap my arms around him, relieved when he returns the action. I haven't been this close to him in a year. "Maybe we can protect each other," he says, and I smile into his shoulder.

"I'd like that," I tell him. We stand there for a long moment, and I just enjoy being so near to him again. My heart is beating so fast that I'm surprised it's still beating at all. I try to form a coherent thought.

"You told me you were sleeping better," I mumble into his navy blue t-shirt. The summer heat has everyone sweaty and irritable, but tonight there's a rare chill in the air. I take a deep breath with my nose buried in his shirt, breathing in his familiar and comforting smell - to me, Harry always smells like cedar and fresh air.

He sighs, and I feel his chest rise and fall. "I was," he says in a husky voice. Silence yawns between us afterwards, but it doesn't feel awkward. He looks down at me. He's grown a lot in the past year; my head stops just at his chin.

He bends down slightly, planting a kiss on my forehead. I feel the world begin to slide away, as it usually does when I'm so near to him. I lift myself onto my tiptoes and press my lips gently to his. He deepens the kiss, and I feel desperation building between us. Maybe I can't help him sleep through the night, but I can help him escape reality for a bit. My hands, which were wrapped around him, slide upwards to grip his arms. He slides his hands down from my neck to my waist, and I smile against his lips. Before I know it, he's lifting me and setting me roughly on the counter beside the sink.

Our heads are level now. He takes advantage of this, leaning in again and parting his lips a bit. I seize this opportunity to slide my teeth along his lower lip, which I know drives him crazy. He groans into my mouth and I push my left hand up his neck and into his short, unruly hair. I gently tug at it, adoring the way his breath catches. A cool breeze from the window blows across my bare shoulders and I shiver; I'm wearing only sleep shorts and a tank top. He pulls back, his eyebrows knitting together. "Are you cold?"

"A bit," I admit. His lips brush mine as he replies.

"Then why don't you let me...er...keep you warm?" I pull back and see that his cheeks are bright red. I can't help it - I let out a quiet laugh. "Or not," Harry says quickly, "if you don't want to, I mean, it was a stupid thing for me to-"

But I close the space between our lips to silence him, and it works like a charm. He runs his hands over my back, and I shiver again, but not because I'm cold. He pulls away again, his mouth quirking up into an awkward smile. "Well, I won't have you missing sleep for me, Miss Weasley," he says in a mock serious voice. I run a finger down his chest.

"Bit too late for that, isn't it?" I flick his hair from his eyes and hop off of the counter. He follows me when I start up the stairs, and when we reach Ron's bedroom, Harry hesitates.

"Well...good night," he tells me, scuffing his feet and looking at his folded hands.

"Ron snores," I say suddenly, completely surprising myself. "It's no wonder you can't sleep a wink in there."

His eyes widen and it's my turn to blush. "C'mon," I say, not meeting his eyes. His hand closes around mine and I walk him down the hall, pushing open the door to my bedroom.

He stands in the doorway, awkwardly. I try to summon some confidence. "Well...I remember you saying something about keeping me warm?" My voice comes off slightly shaky. He blushes, which I'm sure matches the hot flush across my cheeks.

"Right," he says, and stands still for another moment before shutting the door. I grab his hand and pull him to me, my nose brushing his.

I let him close the gap between us and sigh into the kiss. He does seem desperate. I don't blame him. There's a lot I wouldn't mind forgetting for a few moments...especially the blank look in Fred's eyes when we found him...

Now I'm desperate too. _An escape,_ I think slowly. I push him down onto my bed and kiss him, my heart jumping in my throat. His fingers curl into my hair and he leans back onto the sheets. I roll off of him, not wanting to push things _too_ far. He pulls me against him, his steady arm wrapped around me. I relax my muscles, pulling the blanket up over us.

"Ginny," he breathes against my lips. I momentarily forget how to speak, or breathe. All I can manage is a breathy "huh."

"Thank you." His lips trace my cheekbone and his fingers brush calmly over the top of my head. He continues. "I just...I can't sleep. Not when he's in my dreams."

I don't need to ask who "he" is.

I frown. What he just said sounds exactly like the nightmares that have been plaguing me all summer. Dead Fred, Voldemort's cold laugh, Harry lying limp in Hagrid's arms. Suddenly, I need escape again and kiss him feverishly. He seems to understand, and pulls my bottom lip between his teeth. A quiet groan escapes my mouth, completely of its own accord. His lips brush over my neck as he says, "Good night, Ginny."

I rest my head on his arm, letting a small wet droplet leak from the corner of my eye and press against my cheek.

I think he says something else, but I'm already gone.

* * *

"Ginny!" I groan and turn over in my sleep. "Gin! Get up!"

"Go away, Ron!" I groan and crack open my eyes. Morning light floods into my room, illuminating the still form of Harry in my bed, his hair tussled and lips parted by sleep. The events of last night come rushing back and I grin down at him.

"Don't make me come in there!" Ron's right outside the door. Suddenly, panic shoots plainly through me, imagining Ron's reaction opening the door to see his best friend in his sister's bed. I can feel the words forming on my lips: _It's not what it looks like!_

"I'll be out in a minute!" I yell quickly, regretfully looking down at Harry. He's finally sleeping, and I've got to wake him up. I gently shake him awake, watching his brilliant green eyes open. He opens his mouth to speak, but I hold a finger to my lips. He nods, understanding, and slides quietly from bed.

I lean up to his ear. "Come down in about five minutes. Say you were in the bathroom." He grins at me. I push his hair back and turn around, darting out of my room and thundering down the stairs. I leave him standing next to my bed with a lopsided grin on his face. Ron intercepts me at the bottom of the stairs.

"Have you seen Harry yet this morning? He's gone from my room."

I pretend to be uninterested; Ron still thinks we're broken up. "No," I say meekly. I brush past him and sit at the breakfast table. Mum buzzes around the kitchen, supervising the frying pan as it makes our eggs and bacon. I pour myself a glass of milk and lean back in my chair. "Where's Dad?"

Mum turns to face me. "Had to go into work early. They're expanding his department." She swells with pride on the last bit, and I grin. Ever since the war, Dad's been getting raises at work due to his part in defeating Voldemort. All of the remaining Order of the Phoenix have, in fact.

Harry walks into the kitchen and I sneak a glance at him. His hair is mussed and he has a small smile on, something I haven't seen him do in a while. His eyes flick up to meet mine, and I turn my gaze down to my toast, buttering it roughly while my cheeks turn hot.

"Good morning, mate," Ron says to him, sliding into the chair next to me, grabbing toast.

"Yeah. Good morning," Harry says in reply, and I freeze, butter sliding off the knife, when I realize he's looking at me.

* * *

 **Well. That's chapter one. I apologize - I've never written a Harry Potter fanfiction before, so I do hope you all enjoy it. I just got this idea for a story while I was rereading the books for the first time in years. I know it's been done a million times before, but I decided that I'd put my own spin on it.**

 **Happy reading!**


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